Meeting Big Brother
by AmethystPhoenix1
Summary: Tom's had a hard life. Somewhat. His mum's insane because her first-born, Harry, died. And there's that annoying Granger. But when he lands in an alternate universe where Harry is alive, life just gets more complicated.
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Hi, everyone! Since I'm already finished with my novel-length 'The Legend of the Phoenix Well' (all I need to do is update), I decided to write another story. This one's much lighter than LPW. Don't mind the British spellings much. I'm American, but I set my spell checker onto English U.K.  
  
Anyway, hopefully this one's easier to read than LPW, since I changed the format. It may seem confusing at the beginning (I'm talking about the plot now), but all will be explained. So sit back, and enjoy the first part of the 'Every Tom, Dick, and Harry' Trilogy.  
  
Please R/R! Please? :D  
  
Chapter One: A.H. S.H.I.T.  
  
So Euan and I didn't exactly come up with the best name in the entire world. So? Honestly, we didn't intend for the acronym to be 'ah, shit'. Really. It's just that our banner name, 'All Hate (Overly) Smart Hermione, the (Mentally) Ill Tyrant' came out that way. I'm telling the truth. And it really could not have been A.H. O.S.H.M.I.T. You see, our theory is that acronyms that exceed. erm. six letters are. evil! Yes, evil. So it had to be A.H. S.H.I.T. Don't you see? Yeah, whatever.  
  
You might wonder why Euan and I hate Hermione. Well, maybe 'hate' is rather strong. Perhaps 'mutual dislike' would be a better phrase. You see, ever since Euan and I were sorted into Gryffindor in September 1995, Hermione has viewed us as troublesome, meddling. pranksters. Well, I beg your pardon, Miss Head Girl, but we are not pranksters. Ugh, pranksters. No, we prefer the term 'Masterminds in Humour'. Well, anyway, that first day, we turned her hair green, and she gave us detentions. And the war has been going on since. Our partner in crime up in the upper years would be Seventh Year Prefect Ron Weasley. It used to be Fred and George Weasley for a year, but then they pointed us to Ron. And our perfect Head Girl wonders how Ron is even around in Hogwarts, never mind a Prefect.  
  
Hey, you can't blame me for being a Mastermind in Humour. Dad was one too. He and his friends got into all sorts of situations back in their day. I think he and his best mate, Uncle Sirius (my godfather), hold the record for most detentions. But Euan and I have made it our goal to break that record. So maybe we don't hate Granger all that much. I take that back. In my first year, she sent me off to Umbridge, who's our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. I still have the scars. My hand says 'I will not swear in public'. Well, excuse me, Granger, but the Gryffindor Common Room is not public.  
  
Mum got angry, though, after Granger sent her another letter last week. Mum's a bit. batty. You see, I'm not Mum and Dad's only child. Well, I suppose I am now, but I'm supposed to have an older brother. He died over three years before I was born, though, so I never knew him. Voldemort sent a Death Eater, who killed him a few months after he was born, and Mum hasn't been the same ever since. They say it's because of a prophecy Voldemort heard, that my brother Harry and Neville Longbottom were killed. Anyway, Mum compares me every day to Harry, even though he didn't even live for a year. And she's got this invisible friend, almost, who she calls Richard, or sometimes Dick.  
  
Richard was actually going to be the name of the brother who would have been two years older than me, had Mum not have had a miscarriage. But she did, and when I was born, she was very insane. But back to the letter. Mum actually said that if Harry were still alive, he would be the perfect role model, and Head Boy, even. Well, if that was so, I'd be happy. Having anyone, even an older brother, as Head Boy would be better than having that rich, nancy-boy prat, Draco Malfoy as the Head Boy.  
  
I suppose I should talk about A.H. S.H.I.T. After all, it's what got me in detention with Euan for a week. with Mum.  
  
Mum's the assistant to Madam Pomfrey. Sometimes, Mum's normal. Other times, you'll see her babbling to Dick. And maybe, if you're unlucky, she'll throw an insane fit. That has happened six times in my life. Euan and I were set to scrubbing out the bed pans, without magic. That's cruel and unusual punishment, especially because we had Quidditch practice all week. Ron, who's the captain of our team, was furious with us.  
  
We didn't make it better by wearing our A.H. S.H.I.T. badges either. It was planned as an act of. er. patriotism to our Granger-hating cause, but all it got us was another week of detention, for impudence. And the detentions were given to us by none other than Mum. It was horrible. It went like this:  
  
"What are those?" Mum asked dangerously. Sometimes, I wish she was insane twenty-four seven. That thought crops up so many times a day that I know I'll be carted off to pitchfork-land without question. I'll probably live under the devil or something like that if you couple the thought with all our Humour Operations, or what Granger likes to call pranks.  
  
"What what?" I asked innocently, flashing her my award-winning innocent grin. Well, I suppose it's not award-winning, but close enough. "Do you mean our badges? Mum, we're honourable men. we're very loyal to our organisations. These badges show our support for the noble cause we have created."  
  
"Men?" said a snarky, rich-boy, bastard-like voice. Hmm. let's all think. Who is this git intruding our conversation? Uh, how about our very own Head Boy, Malfoy? Hey, Malfoy, has anyone ever told you not to bully students younger than you, especially if you're Head Boy and the student's mother is right next to them?  
  
"Why, hello Draco," Mum said in a friendly voice. The thing with Mum is, well, she seems to think that if Harry were still alive, he'd be best mates with Malfoy. God, no. Just because he's second only to Granger in academics does not mean a Potter would be best mates with him. Yeah, right. If Harry were still alive and was best friends with him, I'd probably kill myself. Because there is no way I would want to spend the summer holidays with Malfoy. The school year's already too much time to be breathing in the same air as Malfoy.  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Potter," Malfoy said in that. ugh. what he thinks is a charming voice. And I suppose what Mum thinks is charming too, since she beamed and walked away. No, Mum, don't leave! No! Aw, crap. Malfoy turned to us, his usual (un)winning smirk on his ferret-like (but for some reason, the girls seem to love it, bleh) face. "Well, if it isn't Potty and Dumbo," he said.  
  
Euan's got these big ears, and the big joke is that when he was sorted, the hat was only held up because his ears were that big. The Slytherins have been calling him Dumbo, though I haven't the foggiest idea what they're talking about. Euan told me it was a Muggle thing, called Dipney, or something like that. He's Muggle-born, so he knows that kind of stuff. Though that doesn't answer the question of how all the Slytherins know about this Dipney. It's an oxymoron, you know, a Slytherin who knows about Muggle things.  
  
Anyway, Malfoy's always making different comments. You know, he could be really creative, if he didn't use all his time making up new nicknames to call us. A week ago, my name was changed to Potty. I wonder what's next. "Men?" Malfoy repeated. He laughed. God, I hate that ferret. "Men? You two haven't even undergone puberty yet." He hit a sore spot. I admit it. The little follower of Voldemort got to me.  
  
You see, my voice hasn't changed yet, even though I'm thirteen. That means I still sound like a girl. Sometimes that has its uses. But most of the time, it's rather annoying. So the next thing I know, I'm rushing towards Malfoy, determined to beat him up, even though he towers over me, and Euan's shouting, trying to pry me off him.  
  
"Tom, mate, you have to stop! Your mum could come in any moment, now!" Euan said, gasping as I accidentally punched him in the face. "Ouch, Tom!"  
  
"Twenty. points. from. Gryffindor!" Malfoy wheezed, pushing me away.  
  
Well, I fell in the most undignified position anyone could land in. I landed on my arse. Painfully. "Ah, shit," I muttered as the mirror Dad gave to me fell on the floor. The mirror was one of those communication mirrors. There's a rumour that on Halloween, it can turn into a portkey to an alternate universe. Just a rumour.  
  
"Tom, your mirror. it's glowing!" Euan said.  
  
"Glowing?" I asked stupidly. He was right. The mirror was glowing purple. As if I needed anymore humiliation. If Malfoy ever told anyone that I carried a purple mirror, even if it wasn't usually purple.  
  
There was a shriek, and Miss Head Girl bustled in, her hair immaculate in the McGonagall-bun she always wore. That Granger is going to be the next McGonagall, I tell you. "Put that thing away!" she said, pointing to the mirror. "What is it? It had better not be one of your stupid pranks!" She picked it up.  
  
"No! I need proof that Potter is really a transvestite!" Malfoy said, lunging for the mirror.  
  
"Give it back!" I shouted, also reaching for the mirror. Malfoy and Granger were tugging at the mirror. As soon as I touched it, though, I felt a whooshing sensation in my navel. The last thing I saw was Euan's surprised face as we disappeared. Ah, shit.  
  
***  
  
Mum always told me I was not allowed to have any more contact with a girl than one finger on one of hers. Which is why I would have been in trouble if she had seen me lying on top of Granger, who was lying on top of Malfoy. Not that it was on purpose. No, whoever made that mirror had a sick, sick mind.  
  
We were in a cupboard of some sort, and there was a bit of light filtering from the cracks in the stairs above us. "Get off me, Mudblood," Malfoy said, his voice muffled from his face being pressed into a pillow. "I don't have orgies with Mudbloods, Potters, or Weasleys."  
  
Granger shrieked, and slapped the back of his head. Ha, Malfoy! Malfoy swore vehemently, and tried to wriggle us off. I fell off, and landed on the floor. That hurt. A lot. "Malfoy, you bastard," I gasped, my back aching. I stood up, and was promptly bowled over as Granger landed on top of me. "You would think we would get more room to land in," I said, looking around at the tiny cupboard. "A ten-year-old wouldn't be able to fit in here."  
  
"Ouch!" Malfoy muttered as he sat up and hit his head on one of the stairs. He glared at the stair, as if daring it to hit him again. Of course, it was just a stair, so it was pointless. Malfoy glared instead at the shelf that somehow fit in the cupboard. His eyes widened. "Bloody hell. are those."  
  
Granger turned to look at the shelf, and promptly screamed. Loudly. "Drugs!" she hissed. "Someone's doing drugs around here!" The door opened, and light filtered in, causing us to need to squint. It was highly annoying, I tell you.  
  
And the thing that stood in the doorway wasn't a pretty sight, either. The teenager had blond hair plastered to his head, and was as wide as he was tall. His face was covered in spots, and he was wearing a tight leather jacket with baggy jeans. His pink flabby face was in an expression of confusion and surprise. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What are you doing in my cupboard?"  
  
"Your cupboard?" Malfoy repeated.  
  
"Your cupboard?" Granger said. "Oh my god, you're the one doing drugs! I'm reporting you to the police, you know. Drugs are illegal, didn't you know that?" She swept past him, intent on telling the police.  
  
"Wait a second," the fat boy said. "You're one of his freaky friends, aren't you? I saw you at the train station before."  
  
"Who's he?" Granger said icily.  
  
"And you too!" the fat boy said to Malfoy. "You're his friend too, aren't you? You were talking to him last year."  
  
"If I was talking to him, it doesn't mean I'm his best friend, whoever he is," Malfoy drawled. "Who are you, anyway?" He looked at the Muggle distastefully.  
  
"I'm Dudley Dursley," the boy said.  
  
Dudley Dursley sounded familiar. Dursley. Mum's sister was named Dursley. We visited once, when I was four, and I remember an eight-year-old boy. Of course, Mum went insane when she saw Dudley, since he's Harry's age. We had to leave after that.  
  
"Who are you talking to, Dinkydiddums?" said a voice to the side.  
  
"Don't call me that!" Dudley growled.  
  
"I'll call you what I want." A teenage boy who. who looked just like me walked to Dudley. He spotted Granger and Malfoy, and a look of surprise came over his face. "Hermione? What's with the McGonagall bun? And Malfoy. what are you doing here?" Finally, he found me. "Oh, hello," he said. "Who are you?"  
  
"T-Tom," I said. I was getting scared. Who was he?  
  
"That's nice," the boy said. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."  
  
I think I made a loud thud when I fainted. 


	2. 2 Do You Really Want to Know?

Hi, again! Thank you so much to my reviewers. luv ya! Please R/R this chapter, even though it's a bit more serious and a little stupid. ::sigh:: It's needed.  
  
Chapter Two: Do You Really Want to Know?  
  
I've had some of the weirdest dreams you could ever think of. One time, I had a dream that I met Granger up in the Astronomy Tower, and we snogged for hours. She was wearing the most revealing pink bikini. Ahem. That was back in my second year, when I had a hopeless crush on her, even though Euan and I had made an oath to hate her for eternity. And you know what was so great about that dream? She was actually my height. I never told anyone about that dream, except for Euan. Partly because Euan laughed and teased me about it for months.  
  
So I found myself dreaming about a pelican flying in purple water. Except it was probably for about two seconds, since the next thing I knew, my eyes were open, my back was sore, and everyone was staring down at me. And I was still on the floor. "Are you all right?" the person pretending to be Harry said.  
  
"Get away, you impostor!" I shouted (It sounded rather stupid). For one thing, this person was wearing Muggle clothes. And not ones that fit, either. You see, at home, I usually wear Muggle clothes too. But they actually fit. So if this person was really Harry, he would be in clothes that fit, right? Ah, another brilliant deduction from the ever-so- intelligent Tom. "You're not Harry! Harry's been dead for the last sixteen years!"  
  
The impostor had the. gall to look confused. He looked at me as if I was insane. I am not insane. He obviously was, pretending to be my dead brother. Maybe he worked for Voldemort. But why would Voldemort have his servant dress up in Muggle clothes? Maybe he was undercover. Yes, that's it, undercover. Dad had to do that once a few years ago, for the Ministry. He was away for months. But I don't think Mum noticed, since she was in an insane fit at the time.  
  
"What?" he said blankly. "I'm not dead." He turned to Granger and Malfoy. "Who is this, anyway? He's mad or something."  
  
"Am not!" I said indignantly. "You are, you follower of Voldemort!"  
  
The impostor's jaw dropped. "I am not a follower of Voldemort!" His eyes bored into mine. It wasn't fair. He had the scary green eyes. I got stuck with my Dad's stupid, boring hazel ones. But at least I don't have to wear glasses. Ha, one point for me.  
  
"Are too," I said, looking back at him and giving him my best Malfoy glare. The one thing Malfoy is good for. You can copy his glare.  
  
"Are not!"  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Are not!"  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"ARE NOT!"  
  
"ARE TOO!"  
  
"AR-"  
  
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?" This time, it was another voice. Both of us wheeled around, and found ourselves staring at none other than Snape, glaring and holding a strange-looking device. He looked at the impostor. "Potter, why is it that I have picked up signs of very powerful emotions around here?" he said icily. He spotted Granger. "You and Miss Granger. engaging in mouth-to-mouth activities, perhaps?"  
  
The impostor's eyes widened, and he turned tomato red. Granger screamed and dropped her book bag, which she carried everywhere. Malfoy snickered. "No, Professor," I said. "I just met this impostor, who says that he's my brother." I pointed at the impostor.  
  
"I did not say I was your brother! I said I was Harry Potter!" the impostor said. "And what are you doing here, Professor?"  
  
"See? See?" I said.  
  
Snape looked at me like I had grown another head. "Mr. Potter, what are Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, and this. boy. doing in your house?" He raised an eyebrow at the impostor. "Who is the boy, anyway? I thought you weren't supposed to have visitors. I was on guard duty." He looked as if he wanted to be any place else in the world.  
  
My jaw dropped. Wait, Snape didn't know me? Snape didn't know Tom Potter, the son of his school nemesis, and the one person who managed to turn his hair pink for a day? Oh, the shame. I don't think I could have ever faced Euan again. It would be the end of my career. Snape didn't remember me! The world is ending! "Professor," I said levelly. "I'm Tom Potter. You know me. Your student. The only son of James Potter."  
  
The impostor looked at me incredulously. "No, I am!"  
  
"No, me!"  
  
"No, me!"  
  
"Me!"  
  
"Me!"  
  
"ME!"  
  
"ME!"  
  
"SHUT UP!" Snape yelled. "First of all, I wonder why either of you would want to be the son of James Potter. Secondly, Harry Potter is the only son of Potter Sr." He glared down at me. I swore inwardly about my. er. limited stature. "Explain yourself."  
  
"I-I." I said nervously. Even though everyone knows Snape is insane, for the obvious reasons, he always is. right for some reason. Sigh. Snape just glared down at me. Coupled with the fact that I was already under severe mental exhaustion. let's just say I let my emotions flow. All right, I burst into tears. Loud ones. "I. want. my. MUMMY!" I wailed, sobbing. "And Daddy! And even Aunt Petunia!"  
  
"Whoa!" The impostor said in surprise. "Aunt Petunia?" He frowned. "You must be desperate."  
  
Snape must have never seen someone my age burst into noisy tears, because he just looked plain scared. The impostor crouched down and tried to comfort me, but you could tell he was scared too. And maybe just a little scarred for life. "All right. Just tell us what happened," he said. He sounded nervous.  
  
"Not. not while. h-he's here," I hiccupped, pointing at Snape. "Or h-him," I added, pointing to Dudley. Dudley was leering quite unpleasantly. Then I realised I didn't want to talk to the impostor either. "Not y-you, either."  
  
The impostor raised an eyebrow. "Well that'll be a lot of people to tell," he said dryly. He looked up at Granger and Malfoy. "What happened?"  
  
"Why should we tell you?" Malfoy said, smirking a little.  
  
"I m-might get a detention!" Granger stuttered. I couldn't help but snort at that one.  
  
"C-can I t-talk to P-Poofy?" I asked tentatively. God, I was pathetic.  
  
"Poofy?" the impostor repeated. "Poofy?" Malfoy was snickering in the background.  
  
"He's my stuffed teddy bear," I said, turning red. "I-I sleep with him sometimes. Mum said he belonged to Dad and my brother Harry too."  
  
The impostor's jaw dropped. "Poofy?" he repeated.  
  
Snape snorted. "Yes, Potter, for once, I agree. That is a horrible name, and the boy needs to grow up." He sneered at me.  
  
"No. you named Booboo. Poofy?" the impostor wailed. Malfoy snickered some more. Snape's mouth was hanging agape. Dudley seemed to be having trouble standing up. He looked ready to burst. The impostor seemed to realise what he had just said. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "No, you cannot talk to a stuffed animal," he said venomously.  
  
"Fine," I said. I was probably cherry-red by now. "I-I'll talk to U-Uncle Remus, then," I muttered. "I-If he's here."  
  
Uncle Remus was more reliable than Uncle Sirius, though a lot more rule- abiding. He was a werewolf, so he was unable to get a job in the wizarding world, so Uncle Sirius, Uncle Peter, and Dad often made him take their money. He actually taught me a few spells before I attended Hogwarts, when no one else was watching.  
  
"Lupin?" Snape said. "He's the next shift. In ten minutes." I still had no idea what Snape was talking about. Everyone stood in silence. Finally, after about ten minutes, Snape sneered and said, "My turn's over. Go outside and flag Lupin down." He Disapparated.  
  
The impostor looked at me. "Come on. All three of you." We followed him reluctantly outside, and were nearly run over by a speeding. was it called a carp? And anyway, why was it going so fast on a driveway? The impostor swore, and glared at the. carp. After the roar of the engine stopped, a man and a woman got out of the. carp and glared back at him. And at us.  
  
"What do you lot think you are wearing?" Uncle Vernon hissed, his face turning beet red.  
  
"Clothes," Malfoy said wryly. "Why? Do you want us to go starkers?"  
  
Aunt Petunia gasped. Uncle Vernon's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, like a goldfish. "Well." he managed. "I never. Potter!" He glared back at the impostor. "Who are these. people?" he spat. "And what the hell are they doing here?"  
  
"I have no idea," the impostor said nonchalantly. "Hey, Remus!" he called. "Remus!"  
  
"Shut up!" Uncle Vernon hissed urgently.  
  
There was a rustle, and Uncle Remus emerged from behind a bush. He looked much older than the last time I had saw him, which was the day before. Maybe Granger, Malfoy, and I had travelled into the future, and the impostor was really my son or something. I shuddered. "Harry, you know you're not supposed to call on us." Uncle Remus said worriedly.  
  
"Uncle Remus?" I said. Uncle Remus looked down at me. His eyes did not light up in recognition. "I'm Tom, remember me?" I said, starting to feel a bit panicked. "Thomas," I said, hoping he would recognise me. "Tom," I repeated.  
  
"Harry, who is this?" Uncle Remus said quietly. The impostor shrugged.  
  
"He's not Harry!" I insisted. "He's an impostor! Harry died sixteen years ago! Uncle Remus, don't you remember? Mum went insane after he was killed by Voldemort. And it got worse after she miscarried Richard. Uncle Remus, you know Harry's the reason why Dad's still an Auror!"  
  
The impostor was looking slightly nauseous by now. Uncle Remus bent down to my level. "Tom," he said, sounding unsure, "Harry's still alive. And who are your parents? We need to get you to them."  
  
"But you know my parents!" I insisted, gulping. "James and Lily Potter! You're one of their best friends, Uncle Remus!"  
  
There was a dry gasp from the impostor. He sat down on the hood of the carp, staring at me. "Tom," Uncle Remus said kindly, "are you sure? You see, you don't want to be caught lying. Being Harry Potter's brother is not all it's made up to be. it's very difficult. Now, Tom, can you tell us who your parents are?"  
  
"I told you already!" I said, hyperventilating against my will. "Uncle Remus, I told you!" I pulled the mirror out of my pocket. "Look! This mirror was glowing purple when the three of us touched it. Euan and I were in the hospital wing, for detention, and then Malfoy and Granger came in, and we were pulled here!"  
  
The impostor was gaping at the mirror. Then he pulled an identical one out of his pocket. "Remus told me that there was a myth that if someone says the word 'transvestite' on Halloween while they're touching it, it turns into a portkey to an alternate universe," he said quietly. "We. we might both be telling the truth. Tom."  
  
"Come on," Malfoy said dubiously. "Who listens to those? Yeah, right. Weasley, get out of that stupid costume. You're not fooling anyone."  
  
"No, no, Draco," Uncle Remus said. He didn't notice the look of pure venom Malfoy shot at him. "Listen, Harry. I'm going to talk this over with Dumbledore. For now, just keep them here with you."  
  
Uncle Vernon, who had been standing in shock to the side the whole time, turned red then white. "What?" he said incredulously. "They will not stay, I tell you!"  
  
Uncle Remus ignored him. "Harry, just keep them in your room. It won't be long."  
  
"I am not staying here!" Malfoy whined.  
  
"Like I want you to," Harry muttered.  
  
"They're not staying!" Uncle Vernon said.  
  
Uncle Remus looked at him. "Mr. Dursley, if you allow them to stay, Harry will leave your house a month earlier than expected." Uncle Vernon seemed to think about this. You could see the cogs (mind you, there weren't too many of them) turning in his head. Then he nodded.  
  
"They will all share food, however," he grunted. "We don't have enough in this house, so Harry's portion will be divided among them. It's only one night, right?" Harry gaped at him. Granger looked disgusted. Malfoy looked murderous. I was ready to faint again. What kind of person was Uncle Vernon, anyway?  
  
Uncle Remus glared at him, something that was rare on his usually calm face. Finally, he nodded, and gave us an apologetic glance. Malfoy actually growled like a dog. "I'll be back tomorrow at the latest," he assured us. He Disapparated.  
  
"And at the earliest," Malfoy muttered. "Wait until my father finds out." 


End file.
